


love you till all the polaroids fade

by loveleee



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Backrubs, F/M, Fluff, and then have to do a bunch of homework to make up for it, canon compliant through 4x16, non-proposals, the usual stuff that happens when you fake your own death, which is when the show ended crazy right!?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23738347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveleee/pseuds/loveleee
Summary: They’ve never talked about it before. They’ve alluded to it, danced around it – talked about their future in vague terms, always with the understanding that whatever they did, they’d do it together.They have never asked one another:Do you want to marry me?(Betty and Jughead after the end of 4x16.)
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 63
Kudos: 192
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	love you till all the polaroids fade

**Author's Note:**

> If the first part sounds familiar to you, it's because I expanded this from a Bughead Drabble Challenge entry that I wrote! Fair warning, this is the sappiest thing I have ever written. It's also rather unpolished, any mistakes are mine. :)

The house is dark and quiet by the time they get home from Pop’s. She holds Jughead’s hand as she leads him up the stairs, her arm twisted at an awkward angle behind her, only letting go once they’re in their bedroom, the door shut behind them.

Here – finally – they’re alone.

Jughead collapses onto the bed with a sigh, and she crawls over him, straddling his lap. Not for sex; they’re both too exhausted for that, and it’s not really what she wants from him tonight, anyway. She just wants to be close.

His hands find her hips as she leans forward. She rests her palms against his shoulders, running them down over his chest with just enough pressure to be sure he feels it.

“Mm.” The sound vibrates under her fingertips, pleased. His eyes are closed, thumbs brushing up beneath the edge of her sweater.

Betty smiles, moving her hands back to his shoulders, pressing firmly. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” His fingers squeeze gently into her hips, an affirmation. “Will you do my back?”

Together they turn him over onto his stomach, tugging his shirt off along the way, and she resumes her position, knees snug around his waist. She runs the heel of her hand up his spine and then down again, the way he likes it. The bumps feel more pronounced than before, or maybe she’s just imagining it.

“Any requests?”

“No. Yes. Let’s stay here all weekend.” His words are muffled against the comforter. “I just wanna lay in bed with you.”

Betty bites her lip, smiling again as she presses her thumb to a knot at the base of his neck. “We just told Archie and Veronica we’d study for the history test with them tomorrow.”

Jughead groans. Whether it’s her thumb digging into his tight, tense muscles, or the fact that they’ve made plans, she doesn’t know.

“I want to study _you_.”

She doesn’t answer him at first, working out the knot, then moving further down his back, pressing, kneading. She wants that, too. His hands on her bare skin, his breath against her stomach, his smile in the crook of her neck.

But they have plans. Bigger plans. _The other, bigger game we’re playing_ , he’d called it, here in this bed, weeks ago.

(Was it really only weeks?)

She smooths her hands down his warm, solid back. Betty lowers herself until she’s laying half on top of him, his soft, clean hair tickling the tip of her nose. “And _I_ want to graduate with you,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to his skin, just behind his ear. “I wanna go to Connecticut with you, and then I wanna graduate _there_ with you, and then…” 

His hand finds her hip again, arm bent at the elbow behind him. “And then?”

“And then I don’t know.” She shifts back until she’s on the bed behind him, looping her arm around his middle, pulling him to her. Where he belongs: with her, within her, always. “What do you want to do next?”

So they study. They make flash cards and outlines. Jughead writes essay after essay to make up for the work he’s missed. It won’t be easy, but he’ll graduate with Betty – with Archie, with Veronica – as he’s meant to.

On a sunny Sunday afternoon in April, they sit facing one another in the window seat, history textbooks open in their laps. Jughead runs his socked foot up the side of her calf.

It tickles, and Betty giggles. “What?”

“Nothing.”

She smiles, dropping her gaze back to her book. “Just trying to distract me.”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

Betty hums in response. He’s quiet for a moment, then says, more seriously, “Betty.”

She looks back up at him; this time he’s looking right back, in the way that lets her know he actually wants to talk. She folds the corner of her page over and closes the book. “What?”

It takes him a moment to find the words. “What do you think about getting married?”

Her heart kicks into high gear instantly, thudding almost painfully in her chest. “In general?”

They’ve never talked about it before. They’ve alluded to it, danced around it – talked about their future in vague terms, always with the understanding that whatever they did, they’d do it together.

They have never asked one another: _Do you want to marry me?_

Jughead plays with the corner of his textbook, catching the edge under his thumbnail and letting it slip, over and over again; it’s so rare that he gets nervous in front of her now, and the sight of it melts her heart.

“Sure,” he allows. “But also, more specifically, you and me.”

Betty can feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Why is this so hard to answer? She knows how she feels. She’s known for years, now.

“I think…yes,” she says. “Someday.”

His eyes crinkle at the corners, the slightest hint of relief. “What about sooner than someday?”

“Well.” Her heart is in her throat now. “It depends. That could mean a lot of things.”

“I’m not saying, y’know, tomorrow.”

Her own mouth feels like it’s entirely out of her control, curling up into a smile at least half borne of disbelief. “Then what are you saying?”

He sighs, gazing out the window for a moment before turning back to meet her eyes. “I’m saying…I almost died a few weeks ago. All I could think about – when I was capable of thought – was whether I was ever going to see you again. And I guess I just don’t see a point in waiting anymore, if it’s just for the sake of waiting, if we both know what we want.”

“We’re really young, Jug,” she says, but it feels rote. It’s what she’s supposed to say. What her mother would say.

Now he’s smiling, too. “I love you.”

“So…” Her mouth feels dry. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I don’t even have a ring.”

“I don’t really care about –”

“Nope.” Jughead knocks his knee against hers. “When I do it, I want to do it right.”

Betty can’t help it; she laughs. “Okay.”

“I think…I’m asking you what _you’ll_ say when I ask you.”

His brow creases with the slightest apprehension again. She wants to lean forward and smooth the worry away, kiss him until they both can’t breathe, until they’re tangled on the floor together, books forgotten, bodies entwined.

“I’ll say yes.”

Jughead nods, once. He looks out the window again, towards the backyard, where it backs up to the edge of the woods. “Cool.”

“ _Cool_?” That’s it; she launches herself at him, climbing awkwardly into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. “All you have to say is _cool_?”

He laughs, ducking his head to kiss her shoulder. “Gee whiz, Betty. I can’t wait for you to make me the happiest man on earth.” He kisses her cheek, once, twice. “Is that better?”

“Yes.” She presses her forehead to his. “That’s better.”

For a few weeks, it consumes her thoughts. She checks the dish on her vanity where she keeps her rings for signs of being disturbed. She peeks over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of what he’s scrolling through on his laptop screen. She watches Veronica and Archie’s facial expressions like a hawk every time they’re all together, searching for any hint that they might know something she does not.

Eventually, it recedes to the back of her mind. There are other things to focus on: AP tests, the Blue and Gold, prom. They’re in no rush. Jughead isn’t going anywhere, and neither is she.

Still. The night of graduation, they leave Reggie’s party early, her arms wrapped tight around his torso as he drives them into the night. She’s surprised – and maybe a little disappointed – when he takes her not to the river, not to the park, not even to the bunker, but home.

She’s more surprised when they enter their bedroom, and it’s already filled with gentle, flickering candlelight.

(He got some help from JB, she’ll learn later.)

“I know it’s a little clichéd,” he says, reaching into his pocket. “Graduation night, and candles –”

She stops him with a kiss.

It is a little clichéd. But they both still cry when she says yes.

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on tumblr (@imreallyloveleee) you know that despite my belief that basically no one IRL should get married before 30, I am HERE for teen-married!Bughead. 
> 
> The odds of anything like this happening in canon seem quite slim now, but in a kinder, gentler timeline, I think this is the sort of thing they'd start talking about as they prepare for college and a life together outside of Riverdale. It's sappy as hell, but I hope this can be a little bit of a short, sweet bright spot during a tough time - writing it was for me. :)
> 
> Title is from "Love U Forever" by my queen Jenny Lewis.


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